


The Highs and Arlo's

by DancingDowager



Category: My Time At Portia (Video Game)
Genre: Communication, F/M, Fluff and Angst, I'm Bad At Titles, Jealousy, Married Characters, Married Couple, Married Life, POV Arlo, it all works out, talking things through
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-17
Updated: 2019-02-17
Packaged: 2019-10-30 12:15:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17828381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DancingDowager/pseuds/DancingDowager
Summary: Arlo's wife has something to say about his nighttime meetings with Nora.





	The Highs and Arlo's

The lights were still on. 

That wasn’t so unusual. His wife frequently worked late, keeping her machines running long into the night. More than once, Arlo had woken to the creaking of the door and chill fingers stroked across his ribs, hair that smelled of oil and smoke spread across the pillow. 

But tonight, she wasn’t working. The yard was quiet, grinders and furnaces still and dark. Only the house was lit, soft yellow glow gentle on the grass. 

He found her stretched out on the sofa, wrapped tight in a dressing gown with the dog asleep on her feet. She looked at him over a steaming mug of red tea, the eyes he fell in love with bright. 

“How was Nora?”

Oh. Arlo bent, taking his time to work the laces on his boots loose. “She’s well,” he said, straightening up. “How did you -”

“I was warned.”

He frowned. “Warned?”

A cynical brow movement as she pressed the mug to her lip, and he knew that brightness now: anger. Hurt. He’d only seen it a few times, usually when speaking of her Pa. “What did you expect to happen when you sneak out to meet another woman at night?” 

“I didn’t sneak,” he said, his own anger clipping the edges from the words. “If you’d asked, I’d have told you where I was going.”

“I haven’t seen you since this morning, and you didn’t mention it then,” she countered, and he didn’t miss the slight shake in her hand as she set her tea aside. She levelled a gaze at him like a punch. “You didn’t say anything last week, either.”

He hated that look. Made him feel like a kid again, standing in front of the class because he’d been caught chasing Mad Crabs across the beach. “I didn’t think I needed to.” He tried to hold her eyes, have her read the sincerity in his own, but her arms were folded like a barrier between them, and he hated that too. “There’s nothing going on with Nora. I love  _you_. You know that.”

She swallowed down a breath. “Yes. I know.”

“Then what’s this about?” he demanded, edging closer to the invisible wall around his wife. He wanted to rip it down, touch her, cradle the hurt away. He’d sparred with her enough to know it was a bad idea to try. “You don’t trust me?”

“I do. With my life,” she replied, sharply. He nearly stepped back for fear of being cut. “No one else does, it seems.”

“What does that mean?”

“People are talking, Arlo,” his wife said, low and fierce. “Antoine took me for coffee last week, and he and Sonia were both asking if things were still ok.” Those gossips. Arlo might have known. “Presley stopped me at the guild, just to remind me that I could talk to him anytime, in lieu of Pa. And this morning, Emily came by.” Arlo watched his wife close her eyes, summoning strength from inside. “She came to tell me she’d seen you talking with Nora a few nights ago. And that she was sure it was nothing; that you were a good man, but she thought I should know.”

That explained the look the farmer had given him yesterday, wide-eyed and tentative, almost afraid. “You know I love you,” he repeated, his gut heavy. “Rumours are just rumours. I don’t see -”

“Do you have any idea how it feels, Arlo?” she burst out, and those shining points in her eyes were tears, so help him: a failure of a man who made his wife cry. “Do you have any idea what it’s like to have your friends and neighbours start intervening out of concern for you? I had to defend you to them! And they looked at me with pity, Arlo, wondering if I’m kidding myself. And you know what?” She rose, and Arlo had forgotten all about Scraps until he jumped from the sofa and slunk away, whining. “I deserve better than that. You should never have put me in that position. You should have more respect for me than that.” She was breathing too hard, chest heaving in her dressing gown. Still she shivered, folding her arms across her chest again, closing herself off and him out. “I deserve better,” she whispered, crumpling. Anger ebbed away from her and left only hurt behind. He felt it in himself too, throbbing like deep bruises. 

“You’re right, sweetie.”

She almost bristled at the pet name, clutching her arms tighter. 

“I didn’t think about how it would look to other people. Guess I thought they knew me better than that.” It hurt, he could admit it. How long had he been with the Civil Corps now? All those people he’d helped; not one of them trusted him to be true to his own wife?

She sighed, shoulders falling as she came to stand with him. She pressed a hand to his chest as she let him put hands on her waist, pressing her close. “They do know you. They just don’t know us. Only we can know us.”

“’M sorry,” he murmured, nosing at her hair. “You know I’d never… don’t you?”

Her fingers twisted into his shirt. “Yeah. Does Nora?”

He nodded, knowing she’d feel it. “I told her I thought you were the one right when we got together. I’d already called off the dates with her by then.” His wife adjusted in his arms, hands sliding down his chest. “Come to think of it, it was you who suggested I go on them in the first place.”

“Well what else could I say?” She pulled back in his embrace, frowning. “I could hardly say: ‘no, don’t go, she’s not right for you’, knowing she felt the same way I did. It’d be taking advantage of my position as a friend.”

Arlo brushed strands of hair away from the crease between her brows. “You already liked me? Back then?”

She dived back into his chest with an embarrassed scowl, hiding her face. “I think I liked you from the moment you walked into the guild and asked for a bridge.”

He smiled, swaying slightly on the spot as they held each other. After a few heartbeats quiet rocking, he cleared his throat. “You want me to stop meeting Nora now?”

“No,” she replied, breathing deep. “She’s a good listener, right? I just don’t want you making a secret of it. Tell me first. Don’t give anyone any reason to think it’s untoward.” She looked up at him, cynical eyebrow back in place. “Maybe stop meeting her in secluded places after dark.”

“I get you, I get you. Now, sweetie -” he kissed her cheek, skin soft and warm, “- how do you want me to make it up to you?”

“Well,” she shifted, relaxing into a coy smile. “What did you have in mind?” 

“I was thinking dinner for two at The Round Table, with hot pot and crispy pancakes. Maybe a walk to Amber Island?”

“You know me so well,” his wife purred, smile widening. 

“And I love all of it,” he answered, kissing her nose. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Sorry for the terrible, terrible pun title.


End file.
